


Valentine Singularity

by wyntirrose



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: M/M, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-21
Updated: 2013-02-21
Packaged: 2017-12-03 04:30:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/694149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wyntirrose/pseuds/wyntirrose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Smokescreen is feeling the strain of his position and his isolation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Valentine Singularity

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally written last year for Valentine's Day and I've been sitting on it because it turned out far more maudlin that I had originally intended and it never turned into the PWP I had originally set out to write. I'm still not quite done with it, but I think that this can stand alone as a fic. Once the writer's block is gone I'm hoping to get the next part of this written. ... .

The party in the common room was going full swing with the mechs dancing, drinking, and generally celebrating a new human holiday. Or, at least, new to them. Spike had called it Valentine's Day and had said it was a day to celebrate love, both romantic and platonic. Of course, all Jazz and Blaster had heard was 'celebrate', and the party was planned, arranged, and approved. In that order.

Every mech on the base was celebrating; all mechs save two. Optimus Prime sat at his desk going through the week's reports. The door was open and he could hear the music thrumming through the base, but he couldn't bring himself to go to the festivities.

“You know there's a party going on, right?” Smokescreen asked as he leaned against the door frame, two cubes of high grade in his hands.

“Ah, Smokescreen ...,” Optimus said, avoiding the psychologist's gaze. “I'm afraid I'm a little busy tonight.”

“So I see,” Smokescreen replied, nodding toward the stack of data pads. “Funny how those materialized just in time to interfere with the Valentine's festivities.”

“Hmm.” Prime's grunt was the only response. He was clearly hoping that the Datsun would leave him alone.

Smokescreen caught the hint and ignored it. Instead he came fully into the room and shut the door behind him. Without a word he handed one of the cubes to Optimus.

“What's this?” Prime asked.

“Wow. I hadn't realized it had been that long,” Smokescreen replied. He put down his own cube and began to display the other one like he was a showcase model. “This is a cube of fine, high-grade energon. It comes from the exotic, far away world of Nitrox Seven. Normally I don't share my special stash, but today it can be yours for a one time only low, low price. In fact, because I’m such a nice guy, first one’s free.” The Datsun smiled brightly as he placed the cube in front of Optimus.

"Yes, I realize it's energon. What I don't understand is why you're here?" Prime said.

"Ouch!" Smokescreen placed his hand over his spark, feigning pain as he fell gracelessly in the guest chair across from the Autobot Leader. "I come in here to check up on you, make sure that everything's okay, and you get all snippy about it. I am well and truly hurt."

"Smokescreen." Prime's tone was annoyed, verging on dangerous.

But the Datsun wasn't about to take the obvious hint when there was clearly something that was keeping Prime from joining the party.

"We both know that I'm not going anywhere until I get what I want, Prime. So you can tell me willingly or I can just sit here and pry it out of you bit by bit."

Prime let out an annoyed sigh and went back to ignoring the psychologist. Smokescreen waited quietly, sipping his cube and watching Optimus. He knew that if he waited long enough the commander would talk. After all, he hadn't actually kicked Smokescreen out yet, which meant that he wasn't completely adverse to the idea of company. Finally after several minutes of being stared at, Prime put down his data pad and leveled a look at Smokescreen.

"You're not going anywhere until I have you physically removed are you?" Optimus asked.

"Nope," Smokescreen replied. "But we both know that won't happen."

"And what makes you so sure of that?" Prime asked.

"Because you don't want to be alone. Especially not today. But you won't go out into the party even though you really want to. You won't go out there for the same reason that I won't."

"I won't go out there because I have work to do."

"Wrong," Smokescreen said simply. "You're hiding behind your work. The most obvious reason is that you fear that the party will cease to exist the second you walk into the common room. You think that you can't go join the festivities because you have to keep yourself separate from your troops."

"Yes, that's exactly it," Prime replied a touch too quickly. "And since that won't change any, I'd appreciate it if you'd let me stay in here rather than risk souring the party."

"Smelter slag," Smokescreen said simply.

"Excuse me?" Prime asked, a hint of danger creeping into his tone.

"I said smelter slag. As in 'That's a load of'. Yes, on one level you're avoiding them because you don't fit in. I don't fit in either and yet, I just came from the party and had a pretty good time. Plus, if you really wanted to get that work done in peace, you wouldn’t have left your door open. That’s a screaming invitation for company.” Smokescreen’s tone was that of Staff Psychologist, but there was a hint of amusement under it. “The real reason you're not in there is the same reason why I left early. Regardless of what Spike said, Valentine's is clearly a day for couples and that makes both you and me uncomfortable."

“Smokescreen I don't want to talk about this right now,” Optimus replied, picking up a data pad, his entire demeanour dismissive.

The psychologist shook his head and put aside his cube. Without missing a beat, he stood and reached across the desk, taking the data pad away from the Autobot commander.

“Orion, you may not want to talk about it, but you need to talk it out.” It was rare for Smokescreen to use Prime's original name. After all, he hadn't known Orion Pax well before he had risen to the position of Autobot Supreme Commander, having only met in passing a scant handful of times, half of which even Prime didn’t remember.

Prime looked up sharply at Smokescreen, his optics narrowing.

Smokescreen never gave him the time to argue. "You need to move on. Believe me, I know how hard it is, but you're not doing yourself any favours locking yourself in here."

Optimus sighed. "Talking won't change anything. Even if I wanted to, I can't involve myself with any of my crew. It would be a conflict of interest on my part and I could never trust that whoever I involved myself with wasn't feeling pressured by my attentions. It's black and white Smokescreen."

"Funny, because from here it looks beautifully grey," Smokescreen replied. Without waiting for an invitation he moved around the desk and perched himself on the edge near Prime's chair. The new position brought them to eye level with each other. "I don't think you're giving your troops enough credit and I think you know it. You're creating excuses so you don't have to deal with the deeper issues."

“Fine, what are the deeper issues?” Optimus asked. With one hand he took the energon cube and with the other he removed his battle mask.

Smokescreen looked at Prime’s bared face for a long moment before speaking. “You know, I understand why you wear it, but you’re not doing yourself any service. You’ve got far too handsome a face to keep it hidden all the time.”

Optimus nearly choked on his energon as he heard the compliment.

“Smokescreen!”

The psychologist grinned rakishly. “You’re cute when you get flustered too.”

He reached out and brushed his hand over Prime’s cheek, gently running his thumb over perfectly sculpted lip components. “We’re social beings, Optimus. We were never meant to be solitary creatures. You need to involve yourself with someone; you need to find someone to share your spark with. Someone to come home to.”

Optimus pulled away hesitantly. “Smokey, I can’t. I need to keep myself separate from everyone else. I’m not just any leader, I’m Prime. Getting into a relationship with anyone will put both him and me at risk. Not to mention what it would look like.”

“What what would look like?” Smokescreen asked. “Do you really think that the rest of the troops would feel threatened if you allowed yourself some pleasure?”

“No, but we have fraternization regulations for a reason!”

“Oh come off it! The fraternization rules haven’t applied since you woke up here. I report every relationship that comes up in therapy and you have yet to do a damned thing about any of them.”

Smokescreen reached out and took Prime’s hand in his own, lacing the large fingers with his own smaller ones.

“I understand you, Optimus. I get what you’re going through. Ever since you made me your little wolf in the fold, I’ve been … lonely. It’s hard, being psychologist to all the troops. I know all their deepest, darkest secrets. It’s almost as hard as it must be for you. Our professions keep us separate by necessity. But it doesn’t have to be that way.”

“Smokey …” Prime pulled his hand away. “I can’t. I understand what you’re saying, but I can’t put myself into that situation. It would have too many potential consequences. Too much risk.”

Smokescreen looked at Optimus then leaned forward, and before Prime could react, he pressed a chaste kiss to his commander’s lips.

“See? The world didn’t end,” Smokescreen said with a smile.

Optimus looked at the psychologist completely dumbfounded.

“I think you have two choices. Either say or do something.” Smokescreen said softly, looking Prime directly in the optics.

“This is probably a mistake,” Optimus said.

“Yeah, but it’ll be a fun one,” Smokescreen replied, brushing Prime’s cheek and leaning back in slightly, his entire body radiating invitation.

Prime paused for a long moment, weighing the options.

“There are far too many reasons for us not to do this,” he said softly. “Fraternization aside, I’m not the type to have a one-night stand.”

“Who says it has to be a one-time thing?” Smokescreen asked, his hand gently running up Prime’s arm.

“Smokey, I know you remember? You’re not the type to go after a long term relationship.” Optimus replied softly. “And I'm not the kind who can settle for momentary desires.”

Smokescreen nodded and pulled back. “So instead you’re just going to sit in here and close off a part of yourself. Instead you’re going to deny yourself the possibility of exploring something that could be really good. True, I’m not suggesting something long term, but there’s no reason this has to be a one-time deal. Not if we don’t want it to be.”

“Smokescreen, you're assuming that I want that. And not to offend, but you're assuming I want that with _you_ ,” Optimus said softly, refusing to meet Smokescreen's optics.

Smokescreen instantly closed off, his face morphing to one of cool professionalism. But he didn’t manage it before a deep feeling of pain flared out from his energy field.

“... wow … Okay, I'll admit that hurt,” Smokescreen whispered in a carefully controlled voice. He slipped off the desk and moved toward the door. “But I understand and I'll back off.”

Prime visibly flinched in the face of that pain. “I’m sorry, Smokescreen. I just-”

“Don’t worry about it, Boss” the psychologist said dismissively. “It was a gamble, and as they say, you can’t win if you don’t play, right?” Smokescreen’s hand hovered over the door release. “And Prime? Don't let this overcharged confession change anything, okay? There shouldn't be any tension between the two of us. We can’t work that way.”

With that, the psychologist let himself out leaving Prime to stare at the door after him.


End file.
